A Kind of Friendship
by Racous
Summary: Two friends meet up in Ragnarok. They speak and laugh...but the next day...they don't meet up anymore. Want to know why? Read to find out! A short bittersweet drabble to give you temporary sadness!


houPala: **Bianca or Misha**, if you ever see this...

FORGIVE ME! (pleads) It was just a delicious idea for a good story!

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On the first month, two girls made a pact to meet up in the virtual world.

Later, they met.

They awed and laughed at their characters and whispered what happens everytime, making a deal to meet once again.

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On the second month, they met more, one about to become a Priestess, the other a Crusadress.

The first girl mentioned an online friend, and the other listened—albeit uninterestedly, but you can never know over the internet.

So then, they lived on.

It didn't bother the Crusadress one bit when her friend spent less time with her.

No...she didn't.

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On the third month, they had nothing to say. Nothing else was there to do but train and live. They converse idly, sometimes reaching idiotic parts of things.

-  
"Hey...why's the sky blue?"

"It's blue because you cut your hair all over it."  
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On the fourth month, they didn't talk at all. The Crusadress had other duties in other servers.

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"Hey...why don't you go online anymore?"

"I'm really sorry...I have guildwars and stuff...collect things for my guild...I'm busy...sorry..."

"But...you always say that..."

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On the sixth month, the Crusadress came back. Battle-worn and weary, stressed over the happenings in the real world. She sought out the companionship of her Priestess-friend, yet both were busy. The Crusadress learned to talk to other strangers.

-

"Hil plzz."

"Damn. I told you I'm not a Grand Cross Crusader."

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On the seventh month, the Crusadress was scammed, looted and insulted. The Priestess was there to heal, give money and lend a listening ear. Thus continued their friendship.

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"Tight budget?"

"Kinda...got scammed by Miss Sadistica. Rotten git."

"Ah...here then."

"Your money? But it's yours! I can't take it..."

"It's yours."

It was said in such finality that the Crusadress wasn't able to decline.

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On the ninth month, they had a conversation.

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"Say..." the white-haired Crusadress looked over at the blue-haired Priestess. It was a fine day in Prontera, people breaking open dead branches in the background. "Say...I think I'd die someday. I'd have damage in my kidney, then die at a young age." She chuckled. "Seems alright to die that way. How about you?"

"I'd die by my uncle's hands, like my relatives fear." The Priestess said idly. At her friend's questioning look, she said, "A crazed murderer. My aunt loves him...but he abuses her, we know. We sent my aunt to America so that she'll get away from my uncle."

"What of her children?"

"Eh...they're with her too."

"So..." the Crusadress shifted. "Why is your uncle after you all?"

"Revenge. Revenge for getting my aunt—his source of money—away from him."

"Ah...it always is like that."

"Yeah."

"..."

"If I don't reappear...that mean's I've been killed. Word says my uncle's getting nearer."

"If I don't log in...that means I'm dead. The reports say that I'm getting worse."

"Don't have pity on me, please." The Priestess murmured. The Crusadress nodded.

"Only if you don't have any for me."

-

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At the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth months, the Crusadress never arrived online. She never returned to school, but the morning rites prayed for her health.

The Priestess never asked.

-

"We pray for the health of our dear classmate, who is now sick at the hospital..."

"Why? What happened?" a girl looked at the Priestess straight at the eye. "You're her friend! You should know!"

The Priestess shook her head and looked down. She can't tell.

The Crusadress wouldn't like the pity.

-

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The next year, the Crusadress arrived online once again.

She waited for her friend to arrive.

-

"Hey...hey...? You online?"

"..." no answer.

"So...you're still offline..."

-

She never came back.

The Crusadress never asked either.

She didn't tell anyone why.

The Priestess wouldn't like the pity.

-

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Then for the next day, the next month, the next year...

...neither of them ever returned.

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On the newspaper, there were pictures of two young ladies on the Obituaries list...

* * *

Pala: Short and bittersweet. I consider this as one of my best works. XD

Read and Review, please!


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